Page 5 of Just For Me
“What’s your full name?”
“Katherine O’Shea,” I replied automatically. “Nice to meet you.”
He chuckled softly and kept me upright as we shuffle-stepped toward his waiting car. “But it would be better under different circumstances, right, Katherine?”
I tried to smile, but it hurt, so I simply nodded and clutched the ruined book to my chest. “Yes.”
He held me steady with one arm while he opened the rear door with the other.
“Can I sit up front with you?”
“Sorry,” he said apologetically. “It’s against regulations.”
“I understand.” And I did.
He eased me into the back seat, then helped me with the seat belt. The car was warm and dry, and I felt kind of bad that I was dripping all over it. “You’re very kind, Officer...”
“Cerasino,” he finished. “Vincent Cerasino.”
The name immediately rang a bell. He closed the door and walked around to the driver’s side. I had to wait until he slid in to ask, “Are you related to Mr. C? The guy who owns the bookstore?”
His eyes met mine in the rearview mirror a moment before he pulled away from the curb. “Yes. He’s my grandfather.”
“He’s a nice man. He calls meBella.”
I think he responded, but my eyes were already closing.
Chapter 4: Nick
Isat at the table, surrounded by those closest to me as I paid silent homage to my mother’s incredible skill in the kitchen. I know most people brag about their mom’s cooking, but saying just how good my mother’s was wasn’t bias, it was fact.
“Are you nervous, Nicky?” my sister Gina asked around a mouthful of parmigiana. Younger than me at twenty-three, she was working on her Master’s in Graphic Design and the only one still living with our parents. The rest of us had our own places, but more often than not, we ended up here for dinner. “Here” was the private section of my parents’ restaurant reserved forfamigliaand very close friends. This was home.
“’Course he’s not nervous,” my younger brother Dom said immediately, rising to my defense. “What’s he got to be nervous about? It’s a fucking book signing, for Christ’s sake.Ow! Ma!”
I smirked down at my plate. I didn’t have to look up to know what happened. My mother had a gift for appearing out of nowhere and cuffing us at the base of our skulls whenever we did something she didn’t approve of. It didn’t matter that she was about five feet tall and my brother was close to six-four and almost thirty years old. Her table, her rules, and as a devout Roman Catholic, Rosa Cerasino did not tolerate anyone taking the Lord’s name in vain.
“Sorry, Ma.”
She ruffled his hair. “You need to go see your cousin Valentina and get a haircut.”
“I will.”
I withheld my smile as Gina and I exchanged a knowing look at his bald-faced lie. The last time he went to Val for a trim, she buzzed him right down the middle because he’d hooked-up with her best friend and never called afterward. He’d had to wear a baseball cap for weeks until it grew out.
“So how about it, Nicky?” Gina continued. “Me and Sofia, we decided we’d come by and offer moral support.” Sofia was my other sister, currently doing her residency in the local hospital’s ER. She worked all kinds of crazy long shifts, and I was touched that she’d take time out to do that for me.
“He doesn’t need moral support,” Dom chimed in with a wicked grin. “But he might need some bodyguards from all those horny chicks who read his books.”
I finished chewing and reached for the glass of wine. “Jealous, Dom?”
He grinned wider. “Fuck yes, I am.”
“Liar,” I said, but I was grinning, too. Like all of my brothers, Dominic had no problem when it came to finding willing females to keep him company.
I looked back at Gina. “You serious? You’d come?”
“Yeah, of course. Someone’s got to have your back.” She winked. “Besides, I want to meet Bella.”
